Reborn
by CryssieM
Summary: Post Grave Danger - POV Nick after rescuing him. Will he survive? How to go on from here? (NS)
1. Default Chapter

**Title:** Reborn

**Author:** CryssieM

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters or the show, all credit goes to CBS and the writers of CSI.

**Spoilers**: set after Grave Danger, so spoilers for this ep.

**Rating**: PG13

**Summary:** POV Nick after rescuing him. Will he survive? How to go on from here? (NS) , W/S, W/Nfriendship

**Note:** I slightly altered the end of Grave Danger - concerning who accompanies Nick in the ambulance.  
This is my first CSI fanfic, I'm not sure if I should go on with it, it depends on you. Apologizes for the possible grammar mistakes, you know English isn't my mother language...

* * *

Landing on the ground I try to open my eyes, but after that pitchy darkness the tiniest ray of light could blind me. So I rather keep them shut. I cough and choke, the fresh night air stings my lungs after having been trapped in the plexi-box for hours long. Lying on my stomach, I can feel the coldness of the ground.

_Sinking into that coldness forever wasn't far at all. I'm sure I was close to the door of death. Never any closer._

_I'm not a wussy guy, I have never been. Never got frightened by the sight of a gun raised at me. The possiblity of getting shot didn't really bring the thought of dying as close as realizing to be buried alive in some glassy coffin and have hardly any chance of escaping._

_That bastard wanted me to die there six feet under... He almost managed to drag me away from my family for good..._

The image of my mum's terrified, teary face flashes through my mind. I can see the pain in her eyes - so intense and enormous fear she never deserved. I also see my father supporting her - his expression is stony, but I know deep inside he shares my mother's terror. He always was so strong, not letting his face mirror his emotions.

I could curse loudly, but only some whimpers escape my mouth as I start sobbing, my tears hitting the ground.

_That son-of-a-bitch... causing such an extreme fright to my parents that I love more than my own life..._

I can't control my body, I'm too exhausted to fight against the tears.

I just realize that I can't recall the last time I told my parents that I loved them. Though I should have. With a job like this you may never know what happens to you next day. Your life is on stake every day. My parents accepted my decision about working as a CSI and I've just understood how much strength did they need each day to approve my resolution. _The proof of their love... And I..._

My tortured body is shaking as crying overwhelms me. The salty tears are stinging the wounds on my face. It hurts like hell. I wince in pain. Dirt mixes with my tears making my cheeks muddy. My hands weakly, but desperately endeavour to clutch to the ground, hold on to something just to feel I'm alive. The dirt sticks onto the fresh, yet bloody and exposed wounds on my skin. It burns like fire, I could scream, but I have no strength to do that either.

I hear voices from somewhere far- it's like still being under the ground. Firm, urging orders, sirens of police-cars, rushing noises... Someone yells for the ambulance, the voice is somehow familiar, but all these voices blending together make impossible for me to figure out whom does it belong.

Tension starts to subside in my muscules, however I'm still terribly shocked.

Paramedics gather around me and are preparing me for the little trip to the hospital. From dark hell back to light again. I lay limp on the ground, letting them do their job on me - there's nothing more I can do. I drift into my thoughts - images are flashing through my exasperated mind. Childhood memories, my family - parents, siblings, friends... my job..._ My whole life... I was so close to lose this all._

I sigh in mind.

_Today I realized how much life does worth._

_People tend to talk about their everydays as if they were granted. And how mistaken they are! I should know that - I deal with life-and-death issues day by day. Even though I couldn't value what I have in my hands either. Being so close to the end I've realized how many things I missed to do._

I hear the doors shutting with a thud and realize that I'm already in the ambulance. The driver starts the engine and sirens scream into the night. I almost drift off to sleep when I hear someone's murmur from beside me.

_"Hold on, Poncho, you must hold on!"_

I recognize my CSI supervisor's worried voice immediately. I want to reply him, but my throath is dried and muscules are too weary and weak to obey my mind's orders. So I just remain silent, but thank him in thought. I'm forever grateful to Grissom for believing in me and not letting me down.

_"Nicky, we need you,"_ a female voice whispers and I feel a hand stroking my hair.

_Catherine,_ I smile in mind recognizing the woman beside me. I don't need to open my eyes to tell that she's extremely anxious. I know her desperate expression - we've worked on several cases together, I had time to get know the woman behind the CSI mask. I know I can count on her - she is always there for anyone in our team. She's the second boss after Grissom. They are a perfect pair of supervisors. And now they are here on my side.

I feel my eyes getting watery at the thought that they care for me so much. _The CSI team... my second family. Warrick, my great buddy, Greg, the never-grow-up labrat, and Sara..._

Tiredness overwhelms me and I can't help but welcoming sleep eventually. But the last image I see in my mind before drifting off is her face. And I know there was a reason why I must have survived...


	2. Chapter 1

The ambulence with screaming sirens tears through the darkness of the night, leaving four pinched faced people behind. None of them moves for some long moments - that actually feels like hours; they are just staring after the vehicle in silence till it gets out of sight.

Captain Jim Brass lets out a deep sigh and looks at his companions. "I must get back to the Lab," he says tentatively and quietly, making efforts to keep his voice emotionless. "Paperwork is waiting for me."

"I'm going too." Ecklie notes after a short, uncomfortable silence, shooting a glance at the detective. "I have a lot to do."

Brass raises his brow slightly, exchanging a glance with him, then nods and heads to their car.

Ecklie follows him, leaving the three young CSIs alone.

Warrick sighs and turns to Sara, who's still gazing the darkness where the ambulance has just disappeared. Her face is pale and weary, reddish brown hair is dishevelled by the desperate rush to help freeing their friend out of the prison of the glasscoffin, actually the prison of slow and dreadful death.

He gently puts his hand on her shoulder and softly says, "We should go too..."

But she doesn't seem to hear him, just stands there motionlessly, still staring in the distance. Her thoughts are definitely elsewhere.

"Sara...?" Warrick leans closer to her, worriedly searching her face for any reaction.

Blinking, she reluctantly moves her head to face him - those tired brown eyes of hers are full of pain and worry."Sorry..?"

"Come on, Sar, I take you home," Warrick patronizingly wraps an arm around her and guides her toward the black Tahoe. "You need some rest."

"I can't," she argues in a determined, yet weak voice. "I must go back to the Lab and write my report..." --- _about that damn bastard who did that to Nick_, she almost bursts out.

"No." the afro guy stops her by grabbing her arms gently and making her look into his eyes."What you must do is go home, take a warm bath and go to sleep." His voice allows no contradiction.

Sara studies him for a long moment, her eyes locking her coworkers'. His look is pleading --- she can tell he is worried about her. Suddenly she feels ashamed for making him be anxious about her when they rather should worry about Nick.

With lips pressed together, she bows her head conceding, which makes Warrick let out a releived sigh.

"Good girl," he gives her a slight smile, then turns to Greg, who has been witnessing these minutes in silence, thinking he'd better say nothing. _You can't say anything that wouldn't sound silly now after all_, he told himself in mind.

"We take Sara home, then I drop you at your door, okay?" Warrick rather states then asks.

"You don't need to bother about me," the kid answers, gratefully for Warrick's care, but not wanting to be a burden for anyone, most for someone that he considers not only a colleague, but also a friend. "I manage to get home..."

"Greggo, don't you start to argue with me as well," Warrick snaps, casting a threatening look at him. "I'm not in form for another round of 'let's-convince-coworkers' game."

The lab-guy casts down his eyes with a blush. Ashamed, he surmises he'd rather obey his colleague - they are both exhausted and weary, both emotionally and physically, so this moment is not suitable for begin childish dispute about such a petty thing.

"Sorry, Rick," he murmurs with guilt, staring at the ground. "I just..." his voice trails off.

Warrick sighs with regret of having been a bit harsh on the kid.

"Sorry, Greg," he apologizes softly. "I didn't intent to..." he swallows a desperate tear. "It's just that..." he tries to explain, but can't put his feelings in words. He shifts and quickly turns his head away so that his companions couldn't see the tears welling up in his eyes.

This time it's Sara who puts a hand on his arm. "Hey, it's okay," she searches his face. "I'm sure Greg agrees with me," she shots a glance at the kid, expecting his approval.

Greg immediately nods and smiles slightly, "No harm was done."

"We're all are shocked and tired," Sara looks up at Warrick reassuringly. "Anxiety draws energy out of one's body - most if you're worried about someone you deeply care for."

Sara's heart skips a beat at her own words. She freezes for a moment realizing what she has just said exactly. She always knew that she had cared for Nick, but the feelings she had for him, however the flirting between them during the years, were barely friendly ones - most that she had had that crush about Grissom for a while, then had been dating with that Hank guy. But now, she has just claimed something that shocks her a bit. Since the team split things have changed. The two teams hardly did see each other, and however they promised to have a drink somewhere and chat a bit sometimes, work and tiredness hindered them to make it happen.

Sara missed the other part of the team. She missed even Catherine despite the fact that they didn't get on well at times. Working with Grissom and Greg was okay but different. The mood of the investigations has changed, work had slowly become monotonous and just plain routine. Not as if it used to have been pure fun, but the interactions between the coworkers, the friendly banters and teasings, little jokes now and then had given an extra strength to go on with duties. The CSI team was a whole together. Like a big family. And Sara missed the other family-members. Actually she had started to miss Nick a lot. He was the one from the other part of the original team she used to work together the most. She missed his presence, the way they did their job together, his flirtatious attitude and everything that was Nick. She missed him more than she expected, and it surprised her. She tried to push these wondering thoughts aside, pretending to have to focus on work, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn't completely forget about this new way she had begun to think of him. And now she has claimed aloud what she feels, shocking herself. _She **deeply** cares for him._

"That's true," Warrick averts his gaze at her, then glances at Greg, "We're exasperated because we almost lost someone who is not only our colleague, but also our friend."

The lab technician nods with honest agreeing. "_He is_," he notes quietly.

_Friend_, Sara sighs in mind. _Yeah, but what if I can't think of him only as a friend anymore?_

She bites her lip and gazes the ground for a moment.

"So let's leave," Warrick suggests and heads toward their car.

"Sara?" Greg looks at her expectantly, raising his brow.

Getting back to reality from her thoughts she exhales and takes some steps forward, "Yeah, let's go."

He nods acknowledging and follows her.

TBC


	3. Chapter 2

The blonde supervisor is pacing restlessly the hall of the hospital's waiting lounge. Although they haven't arrived more than 15 minutes ago, for her it feels like hours.

When arriving, the medics immediately rushed Nick into a vacant emergency room that was bathing in fluorescent light and typical smell of fertilizer. Catherine and Grissom were asked to stay outside and wait. _Easier to say than do that_, Catherine frowned and nerviously started to walk up and down. Leaning on the white wall, Grissom was watching her for some minutes, but got tired of her walking-marathon soon, he rather averted his gaze to the floor. Another time he would have given her a sneery remark, but now he just kept still. It wasn't the time of silly jokes.

Catherine sighs, turning around about the hundredth time.

Grissom looks up at her. "He'll be okay," he tries to reassure her.

She bites her lip and glances at him. There is some certainity in his soothing voice that makes her believe him. She manages a slight, thankful smile. He is always able to help her through the hard situations with his comforting words.

"Yeah, I know." Catherine responds, holding his gaze.

Putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, the male supervisor gives her a supporting smile.

"_Nick is one of us. _He'll make it."

Returning his smile, she nods agreeing. _He must._

_-----------------------------------------_

The black Tahoe speeds through the streets of Vegas. Dead silence falls over its passengers - none of them is in the mood for speaking.

Stopping the car at the traffic lights, Warrick glances over at Sara, who's sitting in the passenger's seat She is staring out of the window, her thoughts are seemingly far away. Looking into the rearview-mirror then, Warrick checks out the young Lab technician in the backseat. Greg yawns and rubs his eyes, which makes the afro guy smile slightly.

The lights change to green and the Tahoe drives along. Some time later Warrick stops at Greg's block to drop the guy, then is heading toward Sara's flat.

The afro CSI notices his co-worker's distraction, but considers he'd better let her alone with her thoughts. Knowing Sara, he wouldn't be able to get her talk now.

Sara glances over the streetlights blankly - her mind wandering back to the point where they had been interrupted about half hour ago. _Nick_. She can't supress those newly awaken emotions about him, no matter how much she would like to.

The image of Nick's horrified expression in that plexiglass coffin flashes through her mind, making her heart sink with sorrow. She instinctively clings onto the seatbelt, her knuckles white of the desperate strength. She can't get that view out of her mind - it burnt deep inside her brain, and the imprint will never fade.

_All the suffer he had to endure there_, she doesn't dare to imagine any piece of that horror.

Having these thoughts on mind, Sara's breath stops for a moment, and she shivers and gasps with terror in her eyes. She still hasn't recovered from shock - also wonders if she ever would.

"Are you okay?" Warrick's worried voice breaks her thoughts.

Sara looks over at the face searching hers and takes a deep breath. "Yeah..." she nods tentatively, her voice is upset and terrified.

He doesn't believe her, his narrowing eyes can tell that, but he surmises that he'd rather not force her to talk about things she doesn't want to share voluntarily with him.

_Their friends kidnapping and torment have affected her deeply_, Warrick states. _Maybe more than everyone else_, he surmises_. Nick and Sara worked a lot together during the years, and became good friends, so this hell must have upset her very much._

Not officially and only for Nick's case though, the split team united again, forming a rounded whole – just as the natural way of things is. Everyone knows that the effeciency of the Vegas CSI team is hiding in the peculiar and unique way of teamwork and cooperation between the members.

_Hopefully that dumbass Ecklie has also realized that after all that happened_, Warrick grumbles in thoughts, _and will fulfill Grissom's „request" about wanting his TEAM back_. _There's some light of hope at the end of the dark tunnel… _

Sara turns her look back to the window, gazing the houses along the streets again. Confusion overwhelmes her. The other times so self-confident CSI has lost her strength. All that happened in the past 24 hours has changed her world.

Suddenly she has found herself in a completely new situation, which she doesn't know how to handle yet. Everything turned up-side-down in that moment when the mere possibility of caring about him more than she should hit her.

_He's a friend and also my coworker, _she reminds herself. _That's all. Nothing more_._ And that should remain so as well._

_It's enough to think of that crush about Grissom…_ _That thing hadn't ended good either, that must have been a sign to restain of relationships at work._

_Anyway_, she frowns_, why do I think that he would care about me the same way? I'm not his type. And we have hardly talked or met either since Ecklie split the team. If I meant him something, he would have called me at least._

Sara sighs.

_Are these emotions I feel real at all? Or have they evolved only because of all that horror that happened to him? Are they just results of the sudden fear of losing him? Losing him as a friend…? Or as a man I care about more than that…?_


	4. Chapter 3

"What does take so long?" Catherine ponders impatiently and anxiously, pacing in the waiting lounge.

Grissom gives her a supporting look and consolingly pats her arm. He doesn't tell, but Nick's case has afflicted him more than anything in his carreer as a CSI supervisor. He has never thought about what his team does exactly mean to him. Surely, he is the man of team-work, claiming that cooperation is the essence of efficient and succesful investigation work, but he never went into deeper thoughts. _Till now_.

Since Ecklie split the team, nothing has been the same. Each member felt that, Grissom could tell. He could have screamed his rage at Ecklie for this despose, but that would have just ascertained the boss about having done the right thing, verifying that Grissom's uncontrolable and untolerable temper disqualifies him for the supervisor-position indeed. Though he was engulfed by anger at that time, he rather bit his lip and controlled his fury than delighting Ecklie with an emotional outburst.

_'Ecklie wanted to play. But he had committed a big mistake: he hadn't carefully measured the opponent he chose.' _Grissom knew, it's a game of strategies. _'Ecklie got a score by team-split. But now, the time has come to balance that.' _After all that has happened Grissom refuses to go on with work without his original, real team. They belong to each other.

The supervisor lets out a barely audible, but painful sigh. He feels like having gotten several years older during these last 2 days.

_'Damn Ecklie,' _he grumbles inside. _If he hadn't wanted to flaunt his power, Nick wouldn't have been on the edge of death, the split team members weary and sick of anxiety, and he Gil Grissom himself wouldn't feel like having failed at his job as a supervisor._

_'I couldn't even take care of my guys - and no, team-split is no excuse for that. I should have contradicted Ecklie and covered my team - no matter if my credulity had been questioned.'_

_'Anyways, I'm a terrible supervisor,' _he claims bitterly. _'No matter what i did - if I withstood him or not, I'm not a worthy person for this position. I couldn't protect my team back then, just as I couldn't do it now either.'_

_'I was such a coward for not standing out against Ecklie. I should have stood by my team. I had been with them day by day, seen their devotion, enthusiasm and persistence toward their job as CSIs; I know their intentions, strength and how hard they are able to work. I'm completely aware of the fact that all appreciation that my team's got is meant for the extraordinary team-work, which reasons are support, respect, loyalty and care for each other.'_

Grissom always appreciated this solidarity of his team - the fact that they can count on each other no matter what may happen. He never doubted that any member of the team would have done anything if the other needed help - even if it was meant risking his or her own life. They possess a bond of good-fellowship and friendship. Though Ecklie separated the team, he couldn't erase the care they have about each other from their hearts.

_'I want my team back,' _his own words are echoing in Grissom's mind. He has been thinking about it for a while, but the horror that happened to Nick was the last drop in the glass. _'No more waiting.'_

_'I should have done this step earlier,' _he frowns, _'not wasting time until something terrible happens.' _Which actually _did_.

_'I should have been more firm to Ecklie and not let him playing board-game with my team, moving its members just like figures in chess. God, if Nick had died, I'd never forgiven him. Neither myself,' _he sighs with a stony expression.

_'I've been hesitating for too long. But now I know what I must do.'_

He glances at Catherine - the strongest woman he has ever known. Maybe she isn't the most perfect CSI, she also made mistakes in past - who didn't? -, but she's definitely the most ambitious, thoughtful, tough and persistent female CSI he has ever met.

The examination room's door opening puts Grissom out of his reverie.

Noticing the two CSIs, the doctor walks to them, "You're from the Crime Lab, right?"

"Yes," Grissom nods. "How is our friend?"

"I'm Dr. Richards," the doctor introduces then replies, "His wounds have been taken care of, he got some antipoison for the intoxication. I must tell you," he sighs, "if he had gotten here just an hour later, I'm not sure we could have done anything to save his life."

"But he'll be okay now, right?" Catherine asks, a bit frightened.

"Having examined him thoroughly, we haven't found any other physical injuries. I presume, he has psychic issues to deal with after the enormous shock - he needs time to get over them. He also has been given some sedative to have a good sleep."

The blonde supervisor lets out a relieved sigh, "May we see him?"

"Yes. But only for some minutes. He needs rest."

* * *

After saying goodbye to Warrick, Sara enters her flat and drops the keys onto the kitchen table. Grabbing a bottle of mineral water out of the fridge and filling a large glass with the cold liquid, she leans on the counter and gulps down some of the refreshing drops.

With all the dirt and sweat of fear and struggle, her skin feels hard to bear - she really longs for cleaning off that mess. The thought of having a warm bath as Warrick suggested is tempting, but knowing she couldn't lay relaxing in the tub now, she rather chooses to take a shower.

Standing under the shower, with eyes closed, letting her face hit by the warm water, Sara tries to relax. But she just can't forget about Nick.

_'Dear God, let him be okay,' _she prays.

Recalling the events of the past 24 hours - _how this whole nightmare had started, learning about Nick's kidnapping and then seeing him in the plexi torture chamber 6 feet under...- _Sara's heart wrenches again. But this time, giving up fighting her emotions eventually, she lets them come to surface and overwhelm her body and mind.

The enourmous fear and terror that has been building up and escalating inside and which she's been trying to hide - maybe for being scared to be considered weak, the last thing she ever wanted to be - couldn't be suppressed anymore. The adrenaline of terror rushes through her veins, her muscles and nerves refuse to keep pretending to be strong and Sara's body begins to shake uncontrollably, while heavy, hot tears are bursting out of her brown, painful eyes and rolling down on her cheek, mix with the waterdrops of the shower. The initiate silent cry turns into loud, exasperate sobs, accompanied with sorrowful whimpers. Heavy streams of water are soaking her delicate body and reddish brown, shoulder-length hair, sweeping off the dirt and drops of sweat from the surface of her smooth skin. The bathroom is getting filled with steams of hot water, providing equal, balanced temperature in the room. However, Sara trembles as if she was standing in the cold, naked and alone.

Shivering under the hot water, completely ignoring the world outside, Sara cries the tears for all of her fears and sorrows. These burning, heavy teardrops call for both past and present.

Feeling the tension easing in her muscles as the tears fall, sobbing inconsolably, she leans her forehead onto the tiles of the wall. Hot skin meets the cold surface, Sara shivers slightly, but the sensation being calming and sobering she doesn't back away.

_'Why me? Why is it always me? All my life... I could never get a piece of true happiness. Always tried, always took the risk, but... except for my years at the Harvard and my job, I never gained anything. I never got the care and attention I've been craving for. No caring, decent parents, no real friends, no genuine guys to love me... All I got from life was my job as a CSI. The only thing I wanted and got.'_

Her desperate tears roll down on her flushed cheeks, and meeting the tiles, follow their way down to the bottom of the shower-stall.

_'And when I thought my life finally got into the right track, the whole loop of bad luck has come over me again... Alcohol-problems, loneliness, the insane crush on Griss in vain, the dates with that bastard Hank and the loneliness and lack of self-confidence again.'_

_'All that means the world to me are my friends and my job. I've never had real friends till I met these guys I call not only colleagues, but my family too. Each of them - even Catherine; though we don't get on well with each other at times. They are the family I never really had. Even if we have confrontations, I know they care about me the same way I do about them, and we always can count on each other.'_

_'And there's a certain guy from Texas that I consider my best friend. Nick Stokes...'_

Sara has a sudden lump in her throath at the thought of what that bastard did to her always smiling and cheerful friend, replacing his smile with desperate screams of fright and dragging him into a real horror story, which you can't ignore by switching to another channel, but have to watch along. And you can _only watch_... While time is running out.

_'He was always there for me if I needed someone to listen or talk to. Such a selfless, caring guy... Why him? Why do always the good guys suffer? And why the ones I care for?'_

_'He didn't deserve this', _Sara sobs, '_I don't deserve this either... losing someone again... Or do I?'_

The tension and long-suppressed fear leaving her body slowly, the tears are abating and her body's tremble is about to subside.

_'Why am I so unfortunate'_, she sniffs. '_What have I done? And why Nick? The closest friend of mine... Or.. more?'_

Frantically, Sara turns the tap to cold, letting herself hit by the cold streams.

_'Sara, you're having those thoughts again... Calm down. you mustn't mistake worry as love. You're too upset to think clear.'_

Sighing, she starts rubbing her body with a sponge infiltrated with refreshing lemon bathing gel; her moves are strong as if scraping her skin would disburden her from all pain and fear.

_'Hold on, Sidle, you must hold on', _she hisses, shivering by the cold water falling over her. '_You must be strong. For him. He needs a friend now more than ever. You mustn't let him down.'_


End file.
